


Dancing In The Dark

by cullenlovesmen



Series: Handers ficlets [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: (the society being homophobic; not the characters here), Alternate Universe - Regency, Anders says gay rights, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cullenlovesmen/pseuds/cullenlovesmen
Summary: Perhaps this love had run its course and Garrett hadn’t noticed.No, that wasn’t entirely true. He had noticed; he had felt the distance between them grow, but he’d chased Anders with the desperation of a besotted fool, unwilling to let go. Their lovemaking had become a rushed and distracted affair, kisses giving way to work – touches growing fleeting. He knew whatever it was that Anders wrote was important, and he wanted to be there for him, to support his endeavours – but Anders wouldn’t let him in on his secrets.
Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke
Series: Handers ficlets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1109898
Comments: 20
Kudos: 27





	Dancing In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally titled _Worth Fighting For_ , but I changed its name.
> 
> Prompt: “If you don’t love me, tell me. Please, just let me go.”

At long last, the evening was over. The door clicked shut behind the last guests and the servants hurried in to sweep away the signs of the ball. In the midst of the bustle stood Garrett Hawke, taking conservative sips from his wine, smiling at the tired, but satisfied faces of his sister and mother. 

“Garrett, dear, what of your particular friend? I do not believe I saw him take his leave.” Leandra’s voice hid a hint of steel. She supervised the placement of furniture back to their usual places, casting her son a quick glance from behind her shoulder.

Garrett dodged a settee on the move, leaning back against the banister of the grand staircase. “Doctor Anders had to attend to a patient; he requested I deliver you his sincerest apologies.”

Bethany raised a brow at that, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. “He did not seem his usual self; I do not believe he danced at all.”

“Perhaps that is for the best,” Leandra said, motioning for a servant to place the harp closer to the wall. 

Garrett didn’t want to hear it; not tonight, not ever. Before Leandra could delve into her feelings, a strike of good luck headed Garrett’s way; Orana approached, and Garrett handed her his half-empty glass with a silent question in his eyes. She gave a discreet nod, and relief washed over him.

He bid his mother and sister an abrupt goodnight and strode up the stairs, casting a quick glance down to ensure their distraction before slipping to the unused wing of the house. A sense of unease made him pause before a door; Bethany was right. Now was not the time to dwell on it, however, so he rapped the door lightly with his knuckles and entered.

Anders was hunched over a desk, two candles flickering as he scribbled hastily. There was nothing to indicate he’d heard Garrett come in, but the click of the door closing jerked him upright. 

“Hello, love.” Honey-amber eyes fixed on Garrett, as soft as the sound of his voice, and Garrett returned the greeting with a kiss; slow and tentative. It broke too soon, however, and Anders’s fingers sunk into his beard, eyes imploring; “I am so close to finishing this article.”

Garrett suppressed a sigh and left Anders to his stack of papers, settling on the bed to wait. How rare these opportunities were; a night together under his very own roof, every comfort available, a sympathetic servant on their side, and no rush – and his lover wished to spend it writing another seditious article for some penny dreadful? The thoughts and doubts he’d pushed down the entire night – nay, for more than a month – bubbled up to the surface, the cold fingers of premonition spreading around his heart.

Perhaps this love had run its course and he hadn’t noticed. 

No, that wasn’t entirely true. He had noticed; he had felt the distance between them grow, but he’d chased Anders with the desperation of a besotted fool, unwilling to let go. Their lovemaking had become a rushed and distracted affair, kisses giving way to work – touches growing fleeting. He knew whatever it was that Anders wrote was important, and he wanted to be there for him, to support his endeavours – but Anders wouldn’t let him in on his secrets. 

The scribbling had paused, and Garrett looked up to find Anders staring at him, concern shining in his eyes. “Your thoughts seem loud tonight, love. What is the matter?”

Garrett swallowed, steeling himself to speak. “If you do not love me anymore, tell me. Please.”

A stunned silence followed, but just as Garrett was about to soften his request until it was muddy and meaningless, Anders got up and reached him in two long strides. The man straddled his lap, bringing both hands to cup Garrett’s face; fingers tender as their breath mingled. “Is this about my writing?” 

Garrett nodded; there was no use hiding it now. He let his lover push him down on the bed and watched as Anders settled next to him, biting his lip. Was this how it all ended – a whisper in the night before Anders turned away and melded into the shadows?

“I– I’m sorry I’ve not let you in, love.” Anders carded his fingers through his hair, eyes closed. “I simply did not wish to make you complicit in… what it is I do. But perhaps I should have.”

With that, the man rose from the bed and went to shuffle through his papers. He returned with one, giving it to Garrett with a shaking hand. Garrett read with hungry eyes, every word resonating in his mind; this was not what he’d expected.

“You see,” Anders paused, a self-deprecating chuckle breaking free, “I might be a fool, but this is what I believe.” 

Finished with the page, Garrett set it down and covered Anders’s hand with his own, encouraging him to continue with a tender brush of his thumb. 

“This,” Anders nodded to the discarded paper, “is what I’ve been saying for years, but before I met you, they were words of logic – not the truth of my heart. I always believed, but you proved I was right; you gave me so many reasons to fight.”

Anders’s hand turned under Garrett’s hold, and he twined their fingers together with a shy smile. “I believe in happy endings, for people like you and I. That is why I fight to the point of exhaustion,” a shadow crossed his eyes, “to the point where you get the wrong impression.”

Garrett lifted their joint hands, brushing ink-stained fingers with his lips, captivated by how the shadows retreated from his lover’s eyes. He kissed each knuckle before pressing Anders’s hand against his chest. “You should have told me.”

“I see that now.” Anders’s smile deepened and he shifted nearer, inviting Garrett to pull their bodies close together. An arm around those narrow shoulders, a tug, and they laid on their backs, Anders’s cheek against Garrett’s shoulder. “But I was afraid of what you would think of me, dreaming of a life together in a house of our own. Such a fanciful vision.”

Garrett lifted Anders’s chin with a finger, letting his eyes confirm the truth he spoke; “It’s what I would want, too, were it an option.” 

The tenderness faded from Anders’s face, replaced by a look of resolve. “It is an injustice you and I, people like us, are forced into life of secrecy and deceit. Perhaps a hundred years from now people will laugh at our society’s values,” he lifted himself to an elbow, brushing back hair from Garrett’s forehead, “and I want them to, but never without knowing,” he paused, looking to the side, voice lowering, “that you and I were here. That people like us were always here. That we fought for them. For us.”

Garrett had no words; he pulled Anders to him instead, claiming his lips with his own. Something inside of him settled, the chilly shades of doubt burnt away by a love affirmed. He flipped them over and poured every drop of the emotion into Anders through their connection; hands rumpling cloth, fingers tangled in hair, the length of a body pressing against Anders’s thinner frame. 

When he finally pulled away to breathe, Anders said, “It is important… but I promise it shan’t come between us ever again, love.”

Garrett took hold of Anders’s face, brushing those hollow cheeks with his thumbs. “You needn’t promise me that. Promise me you’ll let me join the fight instead. Tell me what you need – anything at all – and you will have it.” 

“I want a world where your mother will approve of me and call me her son-in-law, where you and I can dance among all the other courting couples. I wish to hold your hand as we take a stroll in the park,” Anders’s wistful smile turned into a chuckle, “but right now I need ten minutes to finish my article, if you’ll allow.” 

Garrett laughed, too, dodging to the side to allow his lover to wriggle free. He settled back on the bed, undoing his cravat and discarding it to the floor. “So long as once you’re done, you’ll allow me to remind you what we’re fighting for.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments (of all shapes and sizes) and kudos always welcome; they make my day. <3


End file.
